What Would You Find Under A Stone
by Griever5
Summary: 50 Words and a few sentences to go with each. Joui-Centric with little bits of Yorozuya in-bewteen. Each little snippet doesn't really have anything to do with each other, nor is it chronological.


Walking

Their paths have diverged long ago but, _it's __nice __sometimes_, he thinks, looking over his shoulder at the grumpy silver-haired samurai, _to __have __someone __else __to __walk __alongside __with_.

Waltz

Despite their elegance and grace on the battlefield, there's a lot more toe-stepping, swearing, and spilt beverages than expected.

Wishes

When he looks out the window and sees a shooting star (Kagura is chewing noisily on something and Shinpachi is singing tunelessly to an Otsu-Song), he smiles and turns away.

Wonder

Gintoki knows that despite Sakamoto's stupid noisy laughter, he's probably seen more out there than he can ever imagine. But even so, when an idiotic Joui rebel is hiding under his desk and hissing at him to shut up, he can't help but grin - there's wonder to be found down here too.

Worry

He knows that they are all strong enough to bear the weight of their own burdens (and more) but as the war drags on, he catches a glimpse of the look in Takasugi's eyes and feels a sense of helplessness.

Whimsy

Otose-san always calls him a whimsical stray dog and he supposes it is true, but he does stick to some things, he insists, as he snatches the heavy bags of groceries from her and tells her that she'll probably drop them along the street and none of them will get to eat.

Waste / Wasteland

He wakes up in the middle of the night, mouth dry, cold sweat running in rivets down his skin - the summer night is buzzing, alive with the sounds of insects and the snores of comrades, but the sky is too clear and too empty for him to bear.

Whiskey and Rum

Katsura sticks to sake and turns his nose up at imported goods but Sakamoto slips him some anyway, and laughs at the grimace twisting that fragile face.

War

The air is heavy and thick, collapsing in murky lungfuls as he wheezes, hand splayed across his chest, fingernails digging into skin. Sweat dribbles down his chin and he struggles to take another breath, _can't __take __this __anymore_, and glares at his reflection in the mirror where broken combs jut from the tangles of his long dripping hair.

Weddings

Ahahaha I love weddings - Sakamoto laughs - isn't it beautiful, love? - and Katsura can't help but wonder what he's hiding behind those sunglasses.

Birthday

"Have you seen anyone pass through here?" The reply comes in a low lazy drawl. "No. Just a stray black cat." He peeks out from behind a trashcan and holds his breath until the clatter of Shinsengumi dogs pass. He gets up and trips over a stack of JUMP (even though it isn't recycling day yet) but someone catches him and then drops him into a suspiciously brown puddle. "Happy Birthday, idiot."

Blessing

Katsura rewraps the bandages around Takasugi's head in the flickering light of a nearly burnt-out candle and thinks that maybe this was a blessing in disguise. The squadron sent out this afternoon, Takausugi's, was entirely wiped out - if Takasugi hadn't been unconscious... He looks down at the dozing figure and is glad of the heat that still remains in the hand he's holding.

Bias

Mutsu doesn't kick him as hard as she should have when Sakamoto ambles back to the ship late - he has that silly smile on his face, with his fingers half-curled, like holding something close.

Burning

He knew it couldn't last - all that was left of a peaceful dream in ashes, blurring in the memory of a teacher's smile.

Breathing

Takasugi gasps, _it __hurts_, when he crashes through the surface of water but the next breath is sweet and cool and light when it's Katsura staring at him with that worried look on his face.

Breaking

Sakamoto laughs, all the same, even when there are tears and snot and blood smeared across his face, and he's smiling, cradling Mutsu in his arms, coldunmovingquiet.

Belief

Nothing is impossible, he thinks, as he lobs another explosive through yet another government official's window.

Balloon

What are you doing - but he should have known better - and Sakamoto laughs - Ahahahaha - at the bright red balloon clinging to his hair.

Balcony

He doesn't go out onto the balcony much; it's dangerous and he might get spotted, but he watches the summer festival fireworks through a crack in the wall and pretends it's just as good.

Bane

Takasugi runs the rough pad of his tongue over the cut that's oozing pus and blood, and Katsura shudders, face worn with fever; the taste is sour and bitter, and Takasugi's heart trembles inside the cage of his ribs - he wants more.

Quiet

Sakamoto's laughter is obnoxious and loud; it's useful around the fire, chasing away the ache of loss and drawing thin smiles from the weary faces of soldiers, and Katsura listens carefully to the quiet in it.

Quirks

As soldiers, they all have their superstitions and habits but Sakamoto is awakened at night by a hand gripping his, and he watches Gintoki writhe in his sleep, stretch out, reach, to try and hold onto everything.

Question

He had never doubted that once he picked up the sword, he would never set it down again.

Quarrel

They bicker, shout, throw and break things, but at the end of the day, they sit and watch whatever inane drama that's airing, side by side, shoulders touching.

Quitting

Shinpachi scrubs at the floor and grumbles under his breath but he doesn't (seriously) think of leaving.

Jump

Sakamoto wonders what it's like. Sure, he's been up to space and to dozens of planets but as he peers over the edge of the diving board at Katsura (waving enthusiastically), he's not sure he can jump.

Jester

Katsura rarely get the joke nor is he aware that a joke has been made, but when Gintoki leans forward and presses his lips against the shell of his ear, runs his hand through inky velvet strands and asks _what __are __you __smiling __at,__idiot_, Katsura never answers either.

Jousting

Katsura tells him about these knights he's read about in a book and Gintoki snorts - the ladies probably don't even care.

Jewel

There are so many planets out there, more brilliant and beautiful and breath-taking than Earth could ever aspire to be; and yet, when Sakamoto looks down at the glittering blue orb hanging in space, none is as precious.

Just

Gintoki walks by the smouldering ruins of a government building and sees the remains of a Justaway wedged under a brick.

Smirk

Katsura wants to smack that stupid expression off his face but Gintoki rocks his hips forward and he decides to wait till later.

Sorrow

It's not enough for him to go on a rampage and kill more Amanto, or to keep on laughing, or to keep on fighting with a steely grim determination - he looks down at his reflection in the river, vision blurry, and thinks that nothing will ever be enough.

Stupidity

Otose exhales, tendrils of grey smoke drifting to the ceiling; she hears yelling and thumping coming from upstairs and thinks, _stupidity __is __a __strong __bond __indeed_.

Serenade

He thinks it's sweet but Mutsu opens the door, punches him into the wall, and retreats back to her room.

Sarcasm

Gintoki scratches his head and sighs at the two idiots sitting across from him - one laughing and the other dead-serious, and wonders why he even bothers.

Sordid

Each side thinks the other is wrong and there's only dirt and grime and blood and cold and hunger left; Katsura keeps a rock clenched tight in his fist because there is nothing else to hold onto.

Soliloquy

Katsura has a habit of breaking into soliloquies, and Sensei doesn't seem to discourage him so Gintoki takes to watching grudgingly as the lean boy weaves stories from clouds and shapes lives with his words.

Sojourn

His visits to Earth are always brief – buildings are destroyed, Shinpachi breaks his glasses, and Katsura always has a hot cup of tea waiting.

Share

Sakamoto pulls Katsura close as lighting cracks overhead and they huddle between prickly bushes for shelter; Katsura bows his head, burrows into the warmth of laughter and a steady heartbeat by his ear.

Solitary

When Sensei took his hand and led him home, he hadn't known that he would never be alone again.

Nowhere

He looks out the little window into the emptiness of space and feels like he's home.

Neutral

Both of them aren't in this war for some valiant cause, for some greater good - they just want to see their friends home safe.

Nuance

Takasugi had always thought that the new silver-haired kid with rusty eyes was completely different from Katsura – loud, rude, and he snores, very much unlike dainty Katsura. But he comes into the classroom one rainy day and stumbles upon them curled up together, asleep, and thinks, they are indistinguishable from each other, a single messy entity with tangled black and silver hair, and two tiny sets of synchronized heartbeats.

Near

Each of the letters starts with "Sakamoto - I hope you are well" and ends with "Katsura", and it no longer matters how far or deep into space he goes.

Natural

When he's asleep, no longer laughing or smiling or fighting, Katsura lays his hand on Sakamoto's cheek and brings his own face close, like dipping into a clear spring and washing clean one's wounds.

Horizon

There is no horizon for where he travels but he appreciates the closeness of it when he's on Earth, with sand caught under his toenails and a Joui rebel flinging mud bombs at him.

Valiant

They taste the alcohol on each other's lips, warm their freezing hands against each other's skin by the fire. Takasugi is out scouting and Katsura's unconscious from fatigue - and they lose themselves here so that they would have enough strength left in them to save their friends.

Virtuous

They're all fighting for something they believe in, but sometimes it takes all Gintoki has not to just slap them across the face.

Victory

Sometimes he gets a bit too tired of this, running and hiding, but he stops by a ramen store for some soba and is reminded of why he'll keep on going, no matter how long it takes.

Defeat

Katsura rakes a hand through his hair and finds it lacking; he's left grasping the nape of his own neck and wondering if this is what defeat is really like - in the form of a friendship snapping that cuts thinly and deeply into the grooves of his skin, building up heat at the back of his eyes.


End file.
